Think like a Pirate
by sunshinenorcas
Summary: Elizabeth is having trouble 'thinking like a pirate' so Barbossa gives her a hands on lesson. I am horrible with summaries


Elizabeth landed hard on the ships deck. Again. The watching crew jeered at either Barbossa or her depending on their natures. She glowered at the pirate who looked at her coldly.

"Don't scowl at me so lass." he growled dangerously, although he was gentle pulling her to feet. "Attack, defend. Show no mercy..."

"I wasn't!" She shouted back, frustrated. "You broke the rules, not me, otherwise-"

She was cut off when Barbossa lunged and knocked her legs out from under with the flat of his sword. This time when Elizabeth hit the deck, it was face first, catching her weight on her palms. She glared at up at the man whom she was despising at the moment.

"If ye expect to fight alongside pirates, ye must act like one. No pirate I know will follow your 'Rules of Engagement. They won't stop because yer a pretty lass. Now get up."

She stayed on the deck for a beat longer then necessary before pushing herself up, feeling the ache of hitting the floor so many times. Not too mention the now stinging pain of the bruises forming on her legs. But really she had brought this on herself. She had been practicing on the quarterdeck earlier when Barbossa had found her. She had foolishly challenged him to a sparring match only to be disarmed within seconds. He had offered to teach her more then she knew, and she had accepted.

In hindsight, she should have said no, she should have walked away... but, when had she ever said no to learning to fight?

Grimly she set herself for an attack but Barbossa sheathed his sword. "Ye can barely stand. Get some rest, put some salve on ye' legs. Same time tomorrow?" She nodded her consent and he bowed mockingly to her before walking away. As soon as he was out of sight, she staggered, gripping the railing to keep her up. Hissing her pain, she rolled up her pants legs and winced. There was a thick, raised welt about half an inch wide going down the back of her legs.

"That looks a mite painful." Gibbs said, bending next to her.

"Only a mite." She pushed through gritted teeth as he brushed sticky, greasy salve against the back of her calves. The sharp pain turned to fire, she nearly called out or cried, but looking across the deck she saw Will, staring at her. He didn't say anything, didn't move to help her, before he looked away and walked off.  
She gritted her teeth.   
She handle this pain.

"Thank you," she said, proud of the lack of tremble in her voice. "I appreciate it." 

"You looked good with the sword girl." Gibbs said gently, noticing her bruised pride.

"When I wasn't sitting on my bum looking surprised." she pointed out ruefully. "I'll never beat him."

"No, maybe not, but he's been fighting longer then you have miss. When did you first take up the sword?"

It took her a moment to remember, it seemed so long ago even though it wasn't. "Two, two and half years."

"For being a lass with but two years of experience, I'd be proud."

"You can stop trying to flatter me, my pride isn't that bruised. But I thank you. It was very kind. Now go deplete the rum stores some more, or bellow at your sailors."

Gibbs bow was not as mocking as Barbossa's. "Aye miss, I think I may." Elizabeth smiled as she watched him leave but the smile faded quickly.

----

It was cold in the hammock. The stiffness didn't help. She couldn't even bring up any memories to warm her insides, it was just a repeating cycle. Jack dead, Will... not even there anymore, and being knocked to the deck in front of the crew with which she had been trying so hard to fit into...

She shook herself, hard. It was no good to fall into melancholy.

But it was hard to be cheerful when she was cold and achy.

Maybe motion would help her, ease her soreness, warm her up, tire her out again. Quietly rolling out and slipping on the boots she had grown fond of since leaving Port Royal, she made away through the rows of sleeping men to stand on the deck of the ship.

It was raining on the deck. Wonderful. Elizabeth frowned her displeasure, hugging her arms tightly to her body. The raindrops weren't big, but they still felt like ice. Even through the coarse fabric of her shirt and pants, she could feel it. Oh how she could feel it...  
Debating the wisdom of going back to the bunk, where it was at least dry, when a sound caught her off guard. Muscles tensing, she revolved slowly on the spot, scanning the deck. The deck was even darker then normal, thrown into shadows from the clouds.   
Someone coughed and she turned slowly. He was almost hidden in the night, sitting on the stairs even though he had to be soaked by now (he sure looked it). Piercing blue eyes watched her as he smiled leeringly.

"Did princess have a nightmare?" teased, patting the space near him. "Sit close dear, I'll defend your honor."

She frowned at the captain. "It may be you I'm defending my honor from." she said, slowly approaching and climbing the steps to sit a few above him. "Why are you out here?"

"My watch."

"Is not. You're captain, you bow out of the night watches."

His chuckle was low and dry. "The watchman was leery about sitting for so long in the rain. I gave him my early morning for this one." 

"How honorable of you."

"It comes out in spurts." He eyed her legs stretched out beside him. "And then fades quickly into the night."

She pulled her limbs away from his prying gaze, tucking them tightly against her body. That held at least some of her body heat close as well as the added advantage of being behind his back.

"You never answered my question."

"I think I did."

"No, I asked you why you were sitting in the rain. You could have made someone else take this watch. But you did. Why?"

He was silent so long that Elizabeth began to wonder if he slept. "I like the rain."

"What?" The answer took her by surprise. He twisted to look at her. "Ten years I couldn't feel. Even a touch so gentle as this is welcoming."

"Even the cold?"

"Aye. Even the cold." He was eyeing her legs again. "For what goes hand and hand with cold but warmth?"

She glared at him as he turned back around, she could tell he was smiling in his success of aggravating her. 

"That's right, girlie, get angry with me. If you'd rely on instinct for once and not your rules, you might, and I only say might, disarm me. Maybe. Had I laid into the rum beforehand." 

Now, a scowl was added to the glare. "Very funny," she said icily. She rubbed her arms to hold off the tremors, the chill was beginning to get to her. Barbossa patted the spot next to him again.

"Sit here girl."

"No." 

His sigh was deep. "I won't touch ye, get down here before you freeze. If even I make a move, I will let ye beat me to a bloody pulp during practice tomorrow. Aye?"

"No, if I beat you it will because of skill alone... not if you've been dishonorable, because that is a given." But she moved anyway, trying to put enough distance in between them as possible. But there was no way to get around their hips and knees bumping together due to the swell of the waves. Even with that small contact, she felt much warmer.

Barbossa smirked at her. "What did I say now lass, cold brings warmth." The look she gave him was deadly. "Don't look at me so, I'm just telling the truths of nature."   
Grumbling about loathsome pirates, Elizabeth plastered as much of her body as she could to the wall, determined not to touch him (an impossibility due to the cramped space, but she could try) as the raindrops grew bigger and heavier. Out of instinct, she ducked her head and smoothed down her hair, a habit from a life nearly forgotten. Barbossa looked at her oddly.

"It's just rain Miss Swann, won't harm ye."

"I know, old habits die hard I guess." She muttered, looking at her knees. She almost felt him roll his eyes heavenward.

"Gods save us from silly women." He muttered, "Here."

Something big and warm dropped on her head. Surprised, she reached up and felt the object. It was soft, with some rough fabric running around it. Reaching higher still, her fingers closed around a feather before it dawned on her. His hat...

She looked at him, mouth open in shock, he was touchy about his hat, but he shrugged. "For m'ladys hair. Close yer mouth, it ruins your appearance."

She snapped it close. "I'm not a lady anymore." She lifted the hat a little, unsure now.

"You are compared to this crew, and what are you looking for? Its not poisoned."

"Lice?" she looked at him hard. Some of the men hygiene was...lacking. On a few, she swore it looked like the whole scalp moved with the amount of lice.

"I don't have lice or any manner of bug. Ye can put it back on."

"You say that so securely, what makes you so sure?" she asked, dropping the hat back into place. 

He paused for a length of time before saying with a smile, "Jack. He eats 'em."

Elizabeth could only hold the image in her mind for but a moment before starting to laugh. It was just so absurd... Her insides began to ache, and she found she could not stop. Tears fell as she continued to laugh hysterically, covering her face. Barbossa sat beside her looking utterly bewildered on what to do. Slowly, she calmed down enough to stop laughing. "Please forgive me."  
Later, she would reflect that was the first time she had laughed, she had truly laughed, since her wedding day. 

"Are ye..alright?" Barbossa, the strong, brave pirate who was feared from Singapore to the Caribbean and the seas beyond actually sounded... a little nervous. Elizabeth burst into giggles again but quickly composed herself.

"I am fine, thank you for asking." She straightened the hat on her head. "Haven't you ever dealt with females before... or did you never stick with one long enough to witness a full range of emotions?" 

Propping her chin on her fist, she regarded him as he glared at her, clearly not liking the turn of the conversation. If looks could kill, or she was one of the men, she'd probably be dead and tossed overboard for such impudence.

"I have." He said finally, looking away. Curiosity piqued, Elizabeth leaned forward.

"Really?" She had not expected a serious answer. "What was her name?"

He studied his hands as he answered in a low voice, "Sarah. Her name was Sarah." 

"Where is she?"

"Dead." His tone said that he would answer no more questions and not take to kindly to anymore asked.

She let out a simple 'oh' and the pair lapsed into silence for the longest time, listening to the rain and watching the waves. She felt surprisingly comfortable being this close to him. A year ago, she would have struck a person who offered her a spot next to him, the man who kidnapped her, threatened her with her rape and murder. There was no logical reason why she should trust him being this close to her. But... she did. Maybe he had changed since then.

Maybe she had grown.

"?" she asked. He grunted.

"Will I... do I think I could ever disarm you?" She asked him honestly, studying her knees intently.

"In time. Ye could probably do now." She looked up at him, hopeful. He tapped her head gently. "Ye need to stop thinking with this, and starting thinking with this." This time, he tapped her collarbone, above her heart. "Fight a pirate..."

"Think like a pirate. I know," she finished, sighing a little. His hand caught her under her chin and made her look at him.

"Once you stop usin' yer head so damn much, you will be ferocious. Until then, I may take it upon myself to beat ye into stop analyzing yer opponents every move so that ye do not know what to do."

She smiled meekly. "Even if its literally beating me?"

He smiled. "Even so. Now git to bed, you have to rise early if I remember correctly." He patted her cheek like he would a child's before releasing her. Elizabeth nodded and got up stiffly, legs protesting. "Sore, lass?" he grinned

"A little." she grunted, stretching in a hope to relieve her limbs before giving him a little wave and heading back to the bunks. 

"Wait, Miss Swann."

She paused and turned. "Yes?"

"My hat, if you please."

"Oh." She pulled it off and inspected it. "It looks better on me," she informed him primly, handing it back.

"That may be, but it's still my hat, and on my head it shall stay." He held the object and ran a hand along the inside and smiled at her. "Still warm."

Rolling her eyes at him, she headed below decks. "Good night Captain."

"Good night Miss Swann." She could still hear his voice echoing behind her as she climbed back into the hammock, curling up under the thin blanket, suddenly exhausted. As she drifted off to sleep, she dreamed; she was a pirate, tall and proud, standing at helm of her own ship, sailing seas uncharted. And at her right hand, someone was standing there. She could not see him clearly, but she could feel the tickle of his feathered hat against her face...

-fin-


End file.
